A Registered Beating
by Kabashka
Summary: Polly's cash register is broken! Max bravely attempts to fix it while listening to a distracting conversation of Monica's.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters. Yet.

A/N: I wrote this forever ago. Not long at all. Lost and lonely...

Hehe, anyway, I had this weird addiction to Dark Cloud 2 right before I went camping when I was eighteen (and had gotten lost for five hours). I kept thinking of playing spheda in the woods. Anyway, I found this fic on my comp, so I finished it and here it is! Just some cute little thing I thought of...

* * *

"Max, did you fix it yet?"

"No… Maybe if I twist this…"

Crack.

"Crap."

"What did you do?"

"I think I… broke it."

Monica acquired a funny look on her face and peered over the counter of the bakery. "What? Max, it was broken to begin with."

"I know that," he frowned, though not at her. He was quickly becoming frustrated at the cash register that refused to work. "Man, this is annoying."

Monica, smiling slightly, walked around to the other side of the counter and sat atop it, next to the broken register. "You know," she grinned, "I find it funny that you can invent all kinds of useful things, fix the most busted of machines, but you seem to have a world of trouble on a simple little cash register. What **have** you to say for yourself?"

Had it been anyone else, at any other time, or in any other place, Max would have been rather offended. But he wasn't, because it was simply Monica. Monica who was being happy and joking with him, sitting on the counter of Polly's bakery with a laughing glint in her eyes. He grinned right back at her. "Funny. You won't be talking like that for long, though!" He raised a fist in the air as he declared, "I'll get this to open if it takes me my whole life!"

"Be careful what you say, there." Monica jumped off the counter as the little shop bell rang; calling her attention that someone had just entered. "It just might happen."

"Isn't it 'be careful what you wish for'…?" Max murmured, turning his full attention back to the register. Monica smiled, turning her own attention to the customer, a young man in a sort of… high classy brown outfit. She'd seen him around before, but she couldn't quite remember his name. Did it start with a 'G'?

"Oh, hello." He said, not quite looking Monica in the eyes as he fidgeted a bit. "Um… Where's Polly?"

"She's in the back, working on supplies," Max said, glancing up from his struggle with the machine. "Hey, Giles. How's it goin'?"

Giles. That's the name she was looking for. Better remember that.

"Oh. Fine. Everything's fine!"

Why, Monica wondered, did his gaze keep traveling over to her? Yet he didn't make eye contact?

Giles suddenly smiled brightly. "Monica, right? It's always nice to see you around."

"Uh…" She smiled back, "Yeah, it's nice to see you, too."

"Really?" He asked, a bit quickly. "Yes. It's always good to meet new people, you know? Especially you. You're so very unique and…"

The wrench in Max's hand abruptly stopped moving as he listened. He wanted Giles to finish his sentence, but at the same time was grateful that it trailed off to nothing. He looked up from his work, noting the intense flush across his face. During that short moment of silence, an awkward shiftiness befell the room.

"And… well, you're very pretty." Giles finished, face red. The color managed to rival Monica's own burning cheeks.

'He's… Is he hitting on Monica?' Max questioned internally, almost bristling at the idea.

The thought of using the wrench in his hand to hit something other than the cash register popped into his head.

"Ah, well, thank you, Giles," Monica replied, embarrassed. She appeared to be lacking anything intelligent to say.

"Did you need something?" Max finally said, changing the subject and trying not to grind it out through his teeth. The blushing young man jumped slightly from whatever reverie he was having whilst practically staring at Monica and looked as though he was trying to remember what he had come for in the first place.

"Bread." He said. "I just need some bread."

"Okay," Monica said, taking out a brown paper bag, "How much?"

"Um… I think it's about thirty Gilda a loaf." Giles said as Max pretended to focus on the broken register. Monica giggled lightly.

"No, Silly, I meant how much bread did you want?"

Again, Giles' face took on an impossible shade of red, and Max almost felt sorry for the poor bloke. "Oh, haha, two please." He scratched the back of his neck. "That's…"

"Sixty Gilda." Monica smiled, setting the bag on the counter top. Giles placed the appropriate number of coins in her palm, and when his fingertips touched her hand, he allowed them to linger a bit longer than was necessary.

Well, at least that's what Max observed. It didn't make him happy, either.

"Ahaha." Giles went pink again and did a sort of half bow. "It was very nice to see you again, Monica."

"Yes, you too," as always, her eyes squinted adorably when she smiled in delight.

In a sort of backwards shuffle, Giles was making for the door of the bakery. Max nearly heaved a sigh of relief, glaring at the register before him. It was then that he finally saw the small problem with it; after getting it to open just slightly, he could see a small metal piece sticking from the drawer to the upper insides, rendering it useless. He mumbled something about how he should have known it was so simple.

"Bye, Monica," Giles said, finally leaving.

"Bye, Giles!" She waved.

"_BYE_, Giles." Max smacked the register hard.

Giles looked almost startled for a moment, and then he was gone.

Monica gave Max a dead panned look. He felt it burning the side of his head before he looked up. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

Frowning, he tipped the register to its side and lifted a rather large wrench. With a short grunt, he whammed the register so hard it made Monica jump, and a clinking sounded as he tipped it back up.

"I think you broke it," Monica said dully.

"It was broken to begin with," Max shook it and said, "But not anymore!"

He pulled the small lever on the side and the drawer popped open with a '_Ching._' Monica laughed loudly as he stood there looking triumphant, but the look was fading fast. There were chip marks in the lever, a few good wrench dented shapes on the sides and top, and a button was missing. He swept his gaze across the floor in a small attempt to find it.

"You know, it looked a lot better when it was broken," Monica was resisting the urge to snigger.

"Oh, shut up."

"Hey, look, there's not even any money in it. It would have been easier for you to just build a whole new one!"

"Yeah, then I wouldn't have to listen to Giles so long."

Monica was suddenly quiet, and Max kicked himself for it. "He's nice," she said.

"Wimpy, well-tailored, absolutely no good with machines..." Why hadn't he shut up yet?

Biting her lip, Monica shuffled her feet and went to the door that headed back to the storage room. She paced very quickly there for a moment, with a noticeable amount of pink staining her cheeks. In a voice betraying her timid appearance, she said, "You know, I happen to go for guys who are the _opposite_ of that!"

And then she escaped to back room, slamming the door behind her. Max stared at it for a moment, her words sinking in as a happy grin came on his face. Then he scowled. "HEY! I CAN BE WELL-TAILORED!"

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A/N: Thanks for reading! I wasn't going anywhere with it which is why it was so short! I like oneshots because it doesn't require a crap load of thinking and plotting, which, I'm not particularly good at. Thinking OR plotting. So this was fun.

Don't forget to review!


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